A Hero Unheralded
by Boriscat42
Summary: The Ring torments Sam as he and Frodo prepare to climb Mt. Doom. Despite his common sense, even Sam is not immune to its temptations. If Sam can resist, hope that it may be destroyed remains.


Sam decided that it was morning. The sun was no help: the air in Mordor was always thick with smog and vapors, and Orodruin's smoke compounded the problem, but Sam figured that he'd pieced together as much determination as he was ever going to muster. He shook off the coating of dust that had settled on him while he stood guard over Mr. Frodo —honestly, dozed—and went searching in his pack for a morsel of lembas to feed his master. They had arrived at Orodruin's foot the day before. All that was left was the final climb.

Frodo still lay on the ground, sleeping fitfully. He lacked the strength to roll or fight invisible enemies in his sleep, as he had done a few weeks before. Now only his feeble cries and the contortions of his face hinted at his nightmares. His left hand lingered protectively near the Ring. Sam felt a stab of pity for him. _"I'm surprised the weight around Mr. Frodo's neck hasn't strangled him yet", _he thought.

Since bearing the Ring himself, Sam had not been entirely immune to its corruption. Even now, it seemed to call out to him from its place on Frodo's neck, begging him to take it up. Its power had increased in recent days. Closer to its master than it had been in all the Third Age, it fed on the Dark Lord's malevolence. As completely as Sam had previously rejected the Ring, he was still subject to its temptations.

The lembas crumbs located, Sam went to his master's side. He reached out to nudge Frodo awake, but a glint of gold stayed his hand. _"I should take the Ring. Just for a few hours, to allow Mr. Frodo some rest. It would be so easy, with him asleep like this." _His hand dropped towards Frodo's chest. _"No, this is his duty. I promised him that." _The hand was diverted towards Frodo's arm.

Before Sam could touch him, Frodo stirred in his sleep and placed his left hand directly on top of the Ring. Sam's temper flared, but his good sense prevailed. _"No, Sam, this is the Ring affecting you again. Just wake him up."_ He moved towards Frodo again. Frodo's hand shifted, and the ring slipped onto the very tip of his longest finger. Another quarter inch, and Frodo would be wearing it. Sam panicked.

_"I must take it from his finger, lest he put it on in his sleep and reveal us to the Dark Lord. But if I touch it, will I be able to let it go? Will I put it on myself?" _He sighed._ "No matter, I will deal with that when I come to it. The pressing issue is to get it off his hand." _Sam reached for the Ring as delicately as he could, intending to shift it only a fraction of an inch. His finger brushed it, and as he struggled to focus on his task, the Ring's manipulations clouded his vision again, as they had when he bore it during Frodo's imprisonment, and he froze. _"This is false. This is a lie. Just let the Ring fall back onto his chest. For the sake of Middle Earth, Sam. For the sake of Mr. Frodo…"_

Samwise, high king of the realms of Middle Earth, made his home in a grove more golden than Lorien, and a Ring graced his hand, and a noble emerald was set upon his brow. At his side was his queen, Rosie, more fair than all the children of Iluvitar. And at his word, trees tall and mighty rose like gilt columns, and at his glance, the barren fields marred by Sauron and Morgoth before him became green and fruitful…

_"A lie, Sam, all a lie."_

Man and elf and Vala bowed before Samwise, and offered him fealty and alliance. The great lords of ages past presented their swords and were sworn his vassals, and they ruled their lands in his name and glory. Those fallen from light begged his pardon, and by his grace the flames of the balrogs were quenched, and the blackness of the orcs cured and restored to the ancient grace of the Eldar…

_"Think of Mr. Frodo. You must help him finish what he started. He will never destroy the Ring alone."_

And Master Frodo knelt at Samwise's feet, and sought his pardon for his weakness, for hiding the Ring and skulking in shadows while Samwise waited for his rightful possession to be delivered to him. Samwise's keen sight read Master Frodo's most secret desires, and knew that he coveted the ring, but was too feeble to bend it to his will, and therefore was reduced to a slimy, creeping thing, like Smeagol. Samwise was a generous and mild lord, and therefore pardoned Master Frodo, and sent him to maintain the gardens in the most remote corners of the King's grounds…

_ "Mr. Frodo is NOT weak! This is a LIE!"_

And Master Frodo was now called before King Samwise, and was honored for his valor in bringing the Ring to Samwise. Rosie placed a wreath of roses upon his head, and Samwise expressed his eternal gratitude, granting him a seat beside the throne in the great hall. Frodo walked among the orchards and the gardens, and as he rested in the cool shade, his woes and fear melted away. His health was restored, and he lived blissfully in Samwise's house…

_"I WILL NOT! The ring is trying to trick me. These visions are false, I know they are, I desire no crown…"_

Samwise and Master Frodo were back in the Shire, and it was springtime. The wildflowers were in bloom, and a hearty breakfast was upon the dining room table in Master Frodo's home. Master Frodo himself was bathing, washing the dust and soot from his weary body while Sam arranged the silverware for their meal. Sunlight streamed into the hallway through the open door, flung wide to welcome the sweet, wholesome breeze. The War of the Ring was over, and the Shire was green and safe again, just as it had been before Master Bilbo had returned from his adventures…

_"Yes. As soon as this miserable quest is over, we will return, and it will be as if we never left at all. Maybe I will marry Rosie…"_

And Rosie entered the room, smiling and humming, with an armful of flowers to place upon the table. Master Frodo entered the room, wafting the scent of soap behind him, and he took his place at the table. But not at the head, for that place was reserved for Samwise, for the protector of the Shire and his shining Ring…"

_"NO!"_

Gasping, Sam wrenched his hand away. He was breathing hard, as if he had just run a footrace or fought in a great battle. These visions had not been like the earlier ones, which were so superficial. Of course they had begun that way, but at the end… he had nearly slipped the Ring over his finger._ "Will I ever see Rosie again?" _Sam wondered. A few errant tears coursed down his cheeks, turning grey in the soot.

The Ring was several safe inches from Frodo's hand now, so Sam blotted his face with his grimy sleeve and bent to wake him. "Good morning, Mr. Frodo! I have breakfast for you! We have a long journey today, but with any luck, it will be our last."

Frodo sat up, and Sam relinquished the Ring forever.


End file.
